


You Fell On Top of My Car... But I’m the One Who’s Fallen (Chanceuse)

by birbsandemidogs04



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, My first fic for this fandom!, Secret Relationship, They Have So Much Potential, i just really love Carmen and Julia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 20:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbsandemidogs04/pseuds/birbsandemidogs04
Summary: “Why are you here?” she inquires.The way Carmen’s leaning back in her seat, now crossing her arms, is almost making Julia quiver. She won’t give herself the relief. Of course, Carmen is attractive. One would be foolish to refuse to admit that. It’s most likely a convenient diversion tactic. Well, it’s certainly working on her.“Why am I here?” Carmen repeats. “I don’t know what you mean.”“Well, I could simply give a signal and you could be arrested,” Julia replies, unaware of when exactly she became so coy. No: she’s describing a simple hypothetical situation. “So why are you sitting here across from me, once again?”No, definitely coy.Carmen drums her fingers against the tablecloth. They make dull thuds on the fabric. That smirk returns to her face. “I don’t know. I guess maybe I like sitting with you.” she suggests.Julia hadn’t considered that option before. Skeptics flash in her brain. “How am I to trust that you don’t have some sort of recording device?”“Geez, Jules!” Carmen throws up her hands. “Can’t I just like you?”Julia reddens.





	You Fell On Top of My Car... But I’m the One Who’s Fallen (Chanceuse)

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love this show already 
> 
> NOTES: I HC the girls to be the same age, so both are about 21-22 in this fic.  
> //  
> Julia and Carmen meeting on the train was a chance meeting. Their meeting later, in a café, has nothing to do with coincidence.

 

It is odd that she had rescued Inspector Devineaux. She could just as easily have left him or not even entertained risking her life to free him from the clutches of VILE. Up until now, Julia has had a largely metaphysical idea of Carmen Sandiego. Carmen Sandiego was the thief that kept getting away, the small glimpse of red velvet coat as she whisked away into the night, always a couple of paces out of reach. To some degree, she’s been mystical and unreal, something with which her boss seems to be more obsessed than her. She never quite understood why Devineaux is so bent upon catching Sandiego, when there are other thieves out there - notably those members of VILE.

 

///

 

Julia’s gaze is affixed to the way Carmen’s mocha-coloured skin seems to hold a subtle glow. She suspects this is what had prevented her responding to the fact that one of the most sought-after thieves in the world had been sitting before her in that train. Now as before, she finds she can’t react right away.

 

It’s an odd situation. Julia’s taken a rare lunch break in a small café in the centre-ville - her teacup rests untouched on its saucer, closer to her by far than Carmen Sandiego sitting plainly at the other end of the table. Her street clothes cannot disguise her too well. By now Julia’s figured out her identity. Her soft, tumbling, curling bun of brown hair must fall into tresses of loose sprawling curls, that red hat touching the mountain but doing nothing to contain the locks. Her thin figure, pastel t-shirt and shorts that accentuate surely mocha-coloured hips, has to disappear underneath the lipstick-red coat. Street-typical shoes have to be traded in for tall black boots. She’s not simple. She’s not Chase Devineaux, too obsessed to look right in front of her nose.She’s quite capable of seeing Carmen for who she is.

 

“I know who you are,” Julia tells her warningly but quietly, grazing her stare down to the tablecloth before scaling intimately up Carmen’s sides to her face. “You’re Carmen Sandiego.”

 

Carmen doesn’t seem threatened. “Yeah, that’s me. And you’re Jules. From the train. You run around with Devineaux?”

 

“I don’t _run_ _around_ with him,” Julia rolls her neck somewhat uncomfortably. “But yes. I suppose I am _allied_ with him.”

 

“But you haven’t done anything to report me since the last time we met.” Carmen says. Her fingers stroke her other hand as she regards Julia evenly.

 

“No.” Julia admits. She takes her tea up and sips at it finally.

 

“Why?”

 

“Why?” Julia repeats. Now she can’t take her eyes off Carmen’s lips, the soft red smirk imprinting itself fast in her brain. Hurriedly she ducks her head, seeing the lips smirk up even more at her gaze. She knows her cheeks are quite red. It’s both a blessing and a curse having skin like the whitest porcelain. “I don’t know.”

 

“Alright.” Carmen says. “Fair enough. _Jules_.”

A queer flutter tingles Julia’s whole body with every use of the nickname by Carmen. The other woman’s voice breaks just huskily enough on the formation of that one syllable that it almost renders Julia immobile. It’s much more intimate than the harsh, too-long _Julia_. Then again, she’s sure Carmen could take that and bend it to shape her lips as well, make it sound beautiful and seductive and like she’s putting Julia under a spell. 

 

She knows exactly why she’s feeling this way, and it isn’t appropriate. Not at all. Still, she’s afraid that if she attempts to talk again, she might stutter.

 

There’s something else that makes her speak again. “Why are you here?” she inquires. Her gaze wavers as it meets Carmen’s again and she interlocks her eyes with Carmen’s, feeling as raw as if she were interlocking their lips. Barer.

 

The way Carmen’s leaning back in her seat, now crossing her arms, is almost making Julia quiver. She won’t give herself the relief. Of course, Carmen is attractive. One would be foolish to refuse to admit that. It’s most likely a convenient diversion tactic. Well, it’s certainly working on her.

 

“Why am I here?” Carmen repeats. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Well, I could simply give a signal and you could be arrested,” Julia replies, unaware of when exactly she became so coy. No: she’s describing a simple hypothetical situation. “So why are you sitting here across from me, once again?”

No, definitely coy.

 

Carmen drums her fingers against the tablecloth. They make dull thuds on the fabric. That smirk returns to her face. “I don’t know. I guess maybe I like sitting with you.” she suggests.

 

Julia hadn’t considered that option before. Skeptics flash in her brain. “How am I to trust that you don’t have some sort of recording device?”

 

“Geez, Jules!” Carmen throws up her hands. “Can’t I just like you?”

 

Julia reddens.

 

“I-I mean, you’re sounding like Devineaux!” Carmen adds quickly. “I want to know about you.”

 

“Know about me?”

 

“Yeah. You’re always with him, and I feel like you’re different when you’re by yourself.”

Carmen’s gaze is imploring her, and Julia feels something deep inside.

 

She’s right. She has a point. Chase Devineaux is brutish, rude, abrupt, tiresome and showers far too little. She can admit this to herself. He never considers what she has to input and it is frustrating to no end. Oftentimes this hinders them as her solutions have the potential to solve puzzles before it’s too late. Besides this, it is out of the question that she raises a point or strikes up a conversation about art, history, or any of the subjects she is interested in. Not with Chase. Being with ACME has given her the validation she hadn’t felt before, and this is the only way she can continue to put up with Chase Devineaux.

 

Julia herself has never been one for confrontation. Her meekness has always been something of a weakness. Point - she can’t seem to bring herself to request another partner from ACME. This same part of herself somewhat believes Carmen. No, she’s right. When Julia’s alone, she can freely express herself. She can sit with a pad of paper and a pen and just write. She’s at her most peaceful while she’s alone.

 

What actually is the harm in sitting here with Carmen Sandiego? After all, she’s indicated that she is interested in listening to her, for once in Julia’s life. And there’s something almost irresistible about this seductive thief.

 

“What would you like to know?” Julia obliges her. She dusts at nonexistent crumbs on the cloth.

 

Carmen returns with a smile. “Anything and everything.”

 

“Well, I-“

 

“Have you been to the Louvre?”

 

“Of course!”

She’s surprised by her own response to the question. The Louvre is one of her favourite places in the world. Her gaze alights on Carmen’s face again. “Have you?”

 

“Yes. A lot of times. What do you like about it?” Carmen’s smiling, invested.

 

Julia’s not used to being given the room to talk about herself for a change. This is yet another thing that tweaks her image of Carmen somewhat.

 

“Well,” she continues, smiling bashfully at her own plight. “It might be cliché, but I adore the Mona Lisa.”

 

“I like her too. I always found the way she smiles interesting.” Carmen nods.

 

“Did you know that she is also called _La_ _Joconde_?”

Julia’s eyes are bright by now and she knows it. “Named after the woman DaVinci was painting.”

 

“Yeah, I think a friend of mine told me that.”

 

“Well, it is a lesser-known fact,”

Julia adjusts her glasses, more aware of the pressure of Carmen’s gaze. She clears her throat.

 

“What else could you tell me about art history?” Carmen asks then, suddenly.

 

Julia’s gaze turns to her and her eyes widen. Her cheeks warming immediately, her brain sends an impulsive thought that she might be in love with Carmen Sandiego.

 

////

 

With more free time courtesy of ACME’s flexible schedule, there’s more time to dwell on these new developments in Julia’s life. She is quite literally fraternizing with the enemy, unbeknownst to Inspector Devineaux. At the same time, she sees Carmen Sandiego the master vigilante, as a separate entity. Perhaps just another extension of the Carmen she’s always running into in cafés. (Well, the _same_ café every time, not that she’s doing it just because of Carmen, but because permanence is well-known to be comforting to the human species).

 

But the bottom line is that Julia would never give this up. This companionship, this openness, where she’s become accustomed to chirping excitedly about history or architecture or any of her other favourite subjects while Carmen always listens patiently. Julia, who’s used to always being silent, passive, meek, cut off, enjoys this to a great extent. The fact that it’s Carmen most likely improves the pleasure Julia derives from this, however she’s sure she wouldn’t be quite so engaged if she were allowed to spout facts whenever possible or appropriate to others.

 

This is a casual, lilting friendship, tottering delicately above two zones marked by a single thin line - fate will dictate whether it is pushed into explicit romance or destined to remain in the friend zone.

 

The latest encounter could have thrilling implications for the former.

 

Carmen’s dry, matte red lips touch the skin of Julia’s left hand as she bustles around the table in her street clothes, utterly the same as every other time. There’s a slight red mark where she’s kissed the skin, or that might very well be Julia’s flustered physical reaction. They’ve never actually touched before.

 

“Sorry I’m late, Jules,” Carmen says as if that hadn’t just happened, as if she’s just going to go on pretending this is just another one of her welcome intrusions into the stillness of Julia’s tea break, as if she’s expected, which is funny. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

 

Julia manages to find a smile through the haze of it all. “Oh, I’m sure,” she responds, playing along. She watches Carmen’s gaze drop quite abruptly to the tablecloth. To the other patrons of the café they might appear to be just another couple taking a lunch break together or they might be lifelong friends catching up, neither of which they actually are. It’s odd to think.

 

Carmen’s gaze is more sure now, reinvigorated. Her eyes are on Julia’s.

“So what’s new with you? You know, besides trying to catch me.”

 

Julia brings her teacup to her lips with a somewhat cryptic smile. “ACME.” she says airily.

 

“ACME?” Carmen asks, her smile turning now to an amused smirk. “That’s all?”

 

“Yes, they are quite wonderful.” Julia answers.

 

“Is Devineaux still...”

 

“Devineaux? Unfortunately, yes. He never rests. He’s determined to catch you, and he’ll never hear a word from me.”

 

The waitress breezes over and interrupts by taking Carmen’s order then, to which the thief replies with a request of Cuban coffee.

 

“Have you ever tried Cuban coffee?” Carmen asks Julia once the waitress has gone.

 

“I’m afraid I haven’t.”

 

“You’re going to have to one day. It’s really the best coffee out there.”

 

Julia raises an eyebrow, glancing down at her tea. “And how do you know that?”

 

“I’m a world-famous thief, remember, Jules?”

Carmen leans forward as if to make her point more convincing. “I’ve been all over.”

 

“What sort of things have you stolen?” Julia inquires, suddenly curious. She knows of certain items, but not them all.

 

“You know most of them, surely.”

She leans back in her seat, her arms draped across the back of it. “And I don’t exactly _steal_ them. I steal them from _other_ _thieves_.”

 

“I’m afraid that is still stealing.” Julia points out.

 

She and Carmen both go silent immediately as the waitress brings over the _Café_ _Cubano_. Steam curls up from the cup of caramel-coloured liquid and Julia smells it from her side of the table. “That resembles an espresso,” she notes, leaning across so she can see into it.

 

“Yeah, it is one.” Carmen replies. She inhales deeply, smiling. “Ahh. I love the smell of it.”

Julia’s eyes glaze over watching her pick up the cup and sip from it. The gentle incline of red lips does something to her mind.

 

Suddenly her tea doesn’t compare, leaving her wondering how on earth Carmen makes everything seem so irresistible.

 

Carmen’s eyes snapping open catches her off guard and she can’t look away fast enough before she feels her face heat up. That smirk returns. “It’s really good,” Carmen explains, knowing very well what she’s doing. It occurs to Julia now how flirtatious their interactions truly are.

 

“Bet it beats your tea.”

 

“I very much doubt that.” Julia counters, a smile blossoming on her own face. “Did you know that tea originated in China several hundreds of years ago?”

 

“I do.” Carmen nods. “I expect it’s still popular over there.”

 

“Oh, yes. I remember drinking tea very often in Beijing.”

Enthusiasm starts to overtake her soul as she recalls the place where she grew up. “It was so lovely.”

 

“What happened?” Carmen asks gently. She’s stirring the coffee now. The din of the others in the café has faded and Julia can now only hear the teaspoon clinking against the cup.

 

“I moved to England with my family.”

She’s not exactly sure why she’s entrusting Carmen with this knowledge, but it’s spilling from her like a babbling brook. “They have tea there also, but it isn’t like in China.”

 

Carmen nods slowly. “I get that. I wish I could go to Argentina, but I-“

She hesitates. “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Carmen shrugs. “It’s my birthplace.”

 

She’s closed off after that. The red aura around her has faded temporarily to grey.

 

///

 

Julia never knew how good she was at keeping secrets until she became involved with Carmen. It hardens her resolve as well, especially toward Inspector Devineaux.

 

She and Carmen have been meeting intermittently for about three months when Carmen kisses her for the second time. Only this time, it’s decidedly not platonic.

 

They’re just about to part ways, in fact, as they usually do. Julia’s smiling in light of a particularly riveting conversation about the history of the Greek civilization.

Carmen’s got her hands buried in her pockets as she waits to take her leave, the exact opposite of how she would be in her guise as the thief for which she’s known. This is how it always seems to go.

 

And then -

 

“Jules?” Carmen’s voice breaks.

 

Julia turns with the same smile, not expecting anything of it. “Yes?”

 

Carmen’s lunged forward and is holding fast to Julia’s cheek when she presses those matte-red lips to Julia’s startled, slightly open mouth. It’s small, but it causes Julia’s soul to erupt, her world to tremble, her eyes to close and her hands to grab onto Carmen’s waist. In those few seconds before they part, Julia makes a subconscious decision that yes, she definitely loves Carmen Sandiego.

 

When Carmen pulls away and Julia’s eyes open wide, blinking in disbelief, there’s a smile on the thief’s face and she says, “I like you.”

 

“Oh.” Julia says, surprised still for some reason, and Carmen laughs.

 

“I can tell by the way you kissed back that you like me too.”

 

Julia reddens and smiles somewhat bashfully. “Well, yes. I do. Quite a lot, actually.”

 

There are problems and definite obstacles to this truly coming to fruition, this new thing now, but Julia’s mind is occupied with the picture of radiance that is Carmen’s smirking face, and the way she’s linking their fingers together.

 

///

The café stops sufficing for the staggered meetings the two have. All of a sudden, they begin to meet more under cover of night - evening, perhaps after a day’s adventure, at a nearby restaurant or even on the steps outside a museum. Carmen clearly prefers the night to the day. The sky provides a better hood against her identity than her coat. Julia often trails after her outside in Paris as she leaps and runs freely, as if some great energy needs to be released. The way Julia’s cheeks warm while she watches Carmen sets in place for her what love is.

 

Content for now with this, Julia never expected the relationship to progress. But Carmen Sandiego cannot be predictable. She’s the exact opposite of Julia, except in that they both tend to be discreet.

 

There’s always a hooded look in Carmen’s eyes but tonight it seems particularly strong, almost lustful. The two are at a restaurant having a late dinner of steaks and _les_ _frites_ , discussing something or other.

 

Julia catches Carmen staring at her for the fifth time. “Is there something the matter?” she asks, somewhat concerned and anxious.

 

“The matter?” Carmen repeats. She jolts uptight. “N-no, why would there be something wrong?”

 

Julia chews a bit of fry. “You have been staring off into space,” she lies.

 

“Oh, um. No. Sorry.”

Julia observes redness in Carmen’s cheeks. “I was looking at you.”

 

“Oh.”

She goes red. She’d expected it, and yet it’s still foreign to her. This.

 

The classical music goes on but fades, the ambience becoming hazy before Julia’s eyes. She watches Carmen sitting up straight in her chair, evening dress sitting very well on her body, her curves, her cleavage -

 

The thoughts shock Julia. Her body’s betrayed her. “I. Thank you?”

 

Carmen raises an eyebrow. “For looking at you? You’re welcome, but I think you should thank your parents for making you so beautiful.”

 

There is no more of Julia’s face that is still white. She’s crimson now.

 

“My goodness, Carmen.”

 

“It’s true.”

Carmen reaches across the table and sweeps her hand across Julia’s, causing her to link their fingers. Their table is lit up by a small candle, much less harsh than the cafés.

 

They’re gazing into each other’s eyes and Julia brushes her hair back hastily with her free hand, suddenly nervous.

 

Carmen’s smile is lingering. “How would you feel about getting out of here?”

 

Julia’s mouth opens slightly as she looks down. “Sure.” she says finally.

 

///

 

Quite soon after that Julia is pushed against a brick wall and kissed to high heaven. It’s then that she learns not only of Carmen’s desires for the night, but also her own. Her hips keep lifting up from the wall and Carmen’s hands gripping her waist and then her thighs send her sky high. This is reckless and blissful, risky to no end. Julia’s never had something like this before, never done this before. Never. It’s so new and it’s the best thing she thinks she’s ever experienced. Her hands start to reach for Carmen’s neck, and she drapes her arms across her shoulders like a lanyard. Carmen is destroying her, in the most euphemistic sense of the word.

 

Then as they’re getting extremely carried away, which is odd as Julia hasn’t had any wine tonight, they’re interrupted by a passing police officer shining his torch in the night, beams of dusty light flickering over them. Immediately they separate, both unruly and half-undressed, as sheepish and flustered as if they’d been caught stealing.

 

That isn’t to say it ends once the officer leaves with a caution to get “home and into bed”. They can’t part ways just yet.

 

///

 

This dancing around her relationship with Carmen goes on for a remarkably long time, much longer than they would have thought possible. It’s two years before anyone figures out that they’re romantically involved, and it is all because of Julia.

 

Carmen has never gotten injured before. Julia supposed it never occurred to her that she would - Carmen Sandiego, the thief, is untouchable. Untouched by the law, by VILE, by ACME, and by mortality.

 

It’s nighttime. Julia and Inspector Devineaux stake out in his car as usual, close to the Louvre, which is where she’s been spotted. Julia’s heart flutters uncontrollably in her chest, so hard she’s sure if Chase weren’t so dense, he could hear it.

 

Carmen the thief lands atop the trunk of the car, and in the split second before the sleep-deprived Devineaux notices she’s there, she’s winked at Julia. Then she’s off and running down the streets, with Devineaux on her tail, a shout at Julia to “stay in ze car! I have her zis time!”

 

With a sigh Julia obeys, as usual, only watching through the windshield. Then there’s a pop in the night.

 

Carmen hasn’t gotten very far before she crumples to her knees, clutching her hip. Julia’s eyes widen and her face loses all colour - she scrambles out of the car, momentarily forgetting how to open the door, and rushes several paces before her. Past Devineaux, who’s laughing in triumph like a mad dog, past any shadow of a doubt that she’ll risk anything to get to Carmen. Then she finds her and just like Carmen had, Julia kneels. Carmen’s gaze finds her face and it seems a conscious effort to move even just to look at her.

 

Julia’s cradling her in an instant. “Carmen? Oh, my goodness. I can’t believe he -“

 

“I think it was a matter of time.” Carmen cuts her off. She’s in shock, her voice not laced with any emotion. There’s a small, tinny voice yelling into the night, sounding from Carmen’s ears.

 

“I have to call you an ambulance,” Julia says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. Her movements, shocked and stiff, are mechanical. Her senses are somewhat cut off. Everything is blurred.

 

Carmen tries weakly to protest but Julia dials the number anyway. “I need an ambulance please,”

She watches the look of anguish on Carmen’s face - she will certainly be caught. Julia would rather she be caught than dead.

 

Devineaux approaches fast, like a tidal wave. “What are you doing, Argent? I have wounded her!”

His voice is even more grating as of now. “We can’t call her an ambulance!”

 

Julia’s head snaps round. “It’s the right thing to do.” she tells him, uninhibited. “I cannot believe you’ve shot her.”

 

Sometimes she believes Carmen would be better off if she’d left Devineaux to VILE.

 

///

 

Julia suspects Devineaux is onto her from the first visit she pays Carmen. In the hospital, she has nowhere to run. Authorities promise that she will be locked away for _longtemps_ after she recovers. Though Carmen desires to get out and run like she always does, she’s wounded beyond any ability to even walk. Julia’s pleased when ACME deals with Devineaux accordingly, telling him like he’s a toddler that “we don’t kill Carmen Sandiego”.

 

Carmen’s in hospital perhaps two weeks, and in those weeks Julia visits most days. Miraculously, ACME seems to believe her fib that she’s monitoring Carmen so as to study her and see she doesn’t escape. They give her and Carmen their privacy, which allows for many loving touches and embraces while she is there.

 

Julia is leaning down to stroke the hair out of Carmen’s face one day when the latter dazedly calls her name.

 

“Yes, Carmen?”

 

“I need to get out of here.”

 

Julia nods. “I am aware of that, Carmen, but you can’t leave. Not yet.”

 

///

The next day she’s gone, leaving no clues behind as to where she’s escaped to.

 

Although Julia’s appalled, there is some part of her that knows this was bound to happen. Beyond anything, beyond wanting information or stolen items back from her, she hopes Carmen is in at least decent health, and that she will perhaps make an appearance in Julia’s life once again.

 

///

 

Then, a month later, Carmen Sandiego lands on the hood of Chase Devineaux’s car and winks at Julia.


End file.
